


Last Of Our Kind

by Ghost_Owl



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: And it might get shippy because I'm me, Angst, Basically a 'sad dads in the desert' fic, But also they bond, Fluff, Gen, Set Pre-Mandalorian Season 2, Time Travel, exchanging histories, flangst, tags will update if I add romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-15
Updated: 2020-09-15
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:00:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26475328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ghost_Owl/pseuds/Ghost_Owl
Summary: Din Djarin's unplanned stop on Tatooine has led to him stumbling into a sandstorm that's somehow left him and his son stranded over twenty years in the past.  Needless to say, he's not thrilled.Obi Wan "Ben" Kenobi has spent five years watching over Luke when the Force decides to drop an unconscious Mandalorian bounty hunter at his feet and a small child who just happens to be a, well...Featuring: Strange eating arrangements, adorable children, stressed parents, stressed parenting advice, stressed Jedi training advice, desert adventures, What The Hell Is A Baby Yoda, Din finally learning the Complicated History of the Mandalorians and the Jedi, this kid better not be from Yoda's secret affair with a politician or Obi Wan's going to scream, and two men bonding over how to keep your decimated culture alive when you're one of the only ones left.
Relationships: Din Djarin & Baby Yoda, Din Djarin & Obi-Wan Kenobi
Comments: 62
Kudos: 742





	Last Of Our Kind

**Author's Note:**

> *Mando title theme flute screeching noises*
> 
> Anyway so this was in my head for a while, it has a set beginning middle and end, I just don't know what the chapter count will be yet.

Considering what had happened the last time he was there, Din Djarin hadn’t planned to set foot in the same star system as Tatooine anytime soon, let alone on the planet itself.

The matter was, unfortunately, that much like before, there was no other choice.

The Armorer had told him to reunite the kid— Din’s _foundling_ —with his own kind. Easier said than done when all one had to go off of was “mystical race of sorcerers who could move things with their minds, enemies of the _Mando’ade._ ”

That was the kicker, the child Din was to guard with his life— his son, effectively —was from a people enemy to his own, and he was supposed to just hand him back over to them. He knew, though, that he had to at least find them before he determined whether he could leave the kid in their care. Historic enemies or not, they were supposed to have the same abilities as the child, abilities that Din did not have and could never fully understand, as much as he tried. 

If these people could help the kid in any way, any way at all… well, it would be selfish of Din then to try and keep the kid from living the best life he could, even if he had grown more than a bit attached to him.

So, searching the galaxy for magical warriors he hadn’t even known existed it was, all while trying to avoid any kind of major attention or risk alerting the legion of Imperial remnants after the kid. Greef Karga had assured him that with Nevarro liberated, the Bounty Guild would no longer be a threat to them, but Din wasn’t born yesterday and knew that the loss would hardly faze anyone with enough resources as the likes of Moff Gideon.

The fact that the kid was supposedly kin of an ancient Mandalorian enemy wasn’t even much help for Din, as there were no records of his own wiped out history that he could look to to learn about this race of telekinetics. 

With nowhere else to start, Din figured the best way to find out more about the kid’s race was to look to the ones who had wiped them out in the first place, which he would bet his life was the Empire. A sizable wrench in the plan, since, as stated before, the part where the ones after his foundling were none other than ex-Imperial forces.

Therefore, Din had decided to try searching for information through abandoned Imperial datacenters throughout the galaxy; the thriving trade for resources scrounged from said sites proved that many were still about and not yet scrubbed by the New Republic, contrary to what they would like the galaxy to believe. They were far enough out of the public eye, and while there was still a chance poking around one could attract the kid’s hunters, it was the safest alternative Din had.

So far though, his luck had turned up nothing but bantha poodoo. The remote bases were abandoned for a reason, and if he could get them online, there was generally nothing of relevance in the systems if they were backed up, definitely nothing about the kid’s wizard family.

It was another failed trip to an old Sentinel base in the Arkanis Sector that started the problem. His port engine had been lagging for a while, but he had assumed that he’d have enough time to at least jump from this particular moon the base was on to a place where he knew he could get repairs.

He assumed wrong; not a second after he had pulled the switch for lightspeed had the _Razor Crest_ began shuddering violently, alarms wailing. Din yanked them back out of hyperspace immediately, only for the familiar orange planet to fill his view.

A sigh escaped him as he checked the diagnostics and determined that no, the _Crest_ would not be going anywhere until he got that engine fixed. He looked back at the looming shape of Tatooine, thinking that maybe if he stared at it long enough, it would shift to a new planet. Beside him, the kid burbled, scooting out of his little seat to reach towards the planet. Dammit, Din had thought he was sleeping.

Din tilted his head. “You seriously wanna go back there?” he asked the kid.

“Baaah!” the kid said, turning and blinking at him imploringly. There was the crust of dried soup from their earlier meal on his chin. Din reached out and smudged it off with his pinky. “I know, we don’t have a choice. Doesn’t mean I like it.”

He decided to land in Mos Eisley once more, figuring that it didn’t hurt to call upon an old ally— if they could quite consider her one.

Sure enough as soon as Din landed the _Crest_ in the docking bay, swarming out from her workshop like a cloud of angry venom mites was the same woman from before, Peli Motto, her pit droids hopping at her heels.

“I should tell you to turn around and leave,” Peli announced after he lowered the boarding ramp. “After all the trouble you caused me before, I should tell you to leave right this second.” Her eyes zeroed in on the kid nestled in the crook of Din’s arm and softened slightly. “Oh hello, little guy. Don’t worry, I don’t want _you_ to leave, oh no, you are an angel. But I’m afraid your _father_ —“ Here she shot Din another scolding look, “—is very, _very_ bad for business!”

Din dipped his head genially. “I understand I put you in a great deal of danger last we met and I apologize. If you truly want me to leave, I can find someone else.”

“Damn right you put me in danger,” Peli grumbled, but Din could see her eyes raking critically over his ship.

“But,” Din continued. “The problem is that we can’t leave this planet. There’s a crippling in the port engine that makes lightspeed impossible. It needs to be fixed; it’s the only vital repair. Fix it and I’m gone straight after.”

Peli narrowed her eyes. A droid beside her squeaked. The kid blew a spit bubble.

Five minutes later, Peli was shooing Din and the kid out the door into the streets of Mos Eisley. “I should have this fixed in about a day or two, now that you’ve let me use my droids to help. Go find something to eat, see the sights, start a fight— or don’t, actually —and whatever you do, don’t bum the credits you need to pay me this time! I’m already giving you a discount.”

The twin suns beat down on their heads as Din walked, high noon. The underarmor breathed best it could, but Din still hated heat for the reason that it tended to slow cook you inside of your beskar. It probably wasn’t the best for the kid to stay out in this temperature either.

So, Din followed Peli’s advice and went to get them some food. Did he wish he didn’t have to go to the same cantina that had introduced him to Calican and started his problems last time? Yes. Was this cantina also the only place it seemed you could get anything to eat in this entire skug town? Yes again.

That didn’t mean Din wasn’t keeping a wary eye on every sentient and droid inside of the cantina when he stepped into the shade and up to the counter to order some blue milk for the kid. He didn’t ask for anything for himself, he had some rations left back on the _Crest_. He and the kid sat down at a booth where Din could watch the rest of the room and they sat and the kid enjoyed his meal.

All in all, they were only there for about an hour. Afterwards, Din decided to let the kid walk on his own with him, only to be detoured when the kid decided chasing a stray monkey lizard would be a better use of their time. Finally, he figured he could go back and at least check on the ship, even if Peli would be irritated with him. He didn’t like parading the kid around in the open like this, they could sit in the hangar and wait there.

The sky at least wasn’t as bright as they walked back, clouds of dust beginning to swirl overhead and wind buffeting lightly at his cape. Din scooped up the kid, tucking him close into his cloak. “Sorry, _ad’ika_ , I don’t want to lose you in the dust.” 

The kid hummed and closed his eyes.

Din got back to their hangar and instantly froze, one hand moving to his blaster at his hip. There was a struggle here. Blaster scoring all over the walls, metal and tools strewn everywhere, the _Crest_ sitting idle with its engine taken apart like it had been in the middle of having repairs before someone interrupted, no pit droids in sight, and no Peli to be seen.

Din calmed himself with the fact that he could see no blood either.

A rustling sounded behind him and Din whipped around only to freeze at the sight of a young Rodian girl who cringed at his attention. Din carefully held up his hand not holding his kid to show her he meant no harm.

“Hello,” he said. “Do you know what happened here? The woman who worked here was my—“ He hesitated, figuring that since this was another young child… “Friend,” he decided.

“Um,” the girl wavered, shifting back and forth on bare, dirty feet. “Y-yeah. Some big people in hoods came in here and did a lot of shooting. They took Miss Peli away. She was very angry with them for hurting her droids.”

Was this Din’s fault? Had the kid’s pursuers followed them here and took Peli? This would be the second time he had gotten her in trouble when she had just agreed to help him. He had to get her back.

“Do you know which way they took her?” Din asked the girl.

She frowned, cocking her head. “They came in from the direction of the Jundland Wastes. I didn’t see them go, but—“

“Thank you,” Din told her, moving for the exit.

“Are you going to find Miss Peli?” the girl called after him.

Din didn’t answer her, tucking his kid to his side and hurrying off. He didn’t have much time, just knew that he couldn’t be more than an hour behind the kidnappers and there was no time to lose. Therefore, there was really no one in the city he could trust with the kid, so as much as he hated taking his foundling with him, Din knew he had no choice but to wrap the kid tightly in his blankets and jetpack off with him under his arm.

He flew out over the desert in the direction the local had told him. The rising winds shoved at him, making it difficult to keep the jetpack level. It was even more difficult when he had one hand on his blaster and the other clutching the kid tightly to him. It was fine though, he could manage.

He was managing, even if the winds kicking up sand gradually faded the world in front of him to a haze of reds and browns and sand dust. The kid was trembling in his arms, and Din was definitely regretting bringing him out into this mess, but it wasn’t like he could have left him back in Mos Eisley.

He was managing… until he wasn’t. Abruptly, the storm turned from a choppy ocean to a howling hurricane. There was so much sand, Din’s vision went black, and a wind gust slammed into him so hard he went spiraling. This was a bad decision, the worst choice. Yes, Peli was in danger, but he had just put his _son_ in danger. He should have known not to try and brave a sandstorm of this calibre. Everything was darkness, and Din could barely tell which direction was up and which was down. The last thing he wanted to do was send them slamming into the ground, but he couldn’t see even with his visor, and he knew that if the winds picked up even more, the swirling sands could turn to razor blades and take out his jetpack engine. 

Frantically, he fought the winds for control, praying for some kind of opening where he could actually see— _there_. A patch of bright light in the swirling dust. Din went full throttle towards it, holstering his blaster so he could wrap both hands around his child as to try and protect him should they crash.

Closer… closer… almost there and—

Din burst through the light into… _darkness?_

It was nighttime. The sands were a dark grey below and the sky shone bright with stars above and it was certainly nighttime, which did not make sense as it had been early afternoon when Din had flown off into the sandstorm. It made no more sense than when, abruptly remembering the sandstorm that had just tried to eat them alive, Din whirled around and saw no howling cloud of fury behind him nor anywhere in the area. The desert air was crystal clear, not a sign of the storm in any direction. It was if it had never happened at all.

Din quickly turned to the bundle in his arms, encrusted in sand— the storm had definitely been real —and when he frantically removed the cloth wrappings, found two dark eyes staring up at him unfazed. He felt the knot in his chest loosen slightly. At least the kid was okay. 

Though, as the kid’s eyes blinked sleepily and he noticed the signs of him about to nod off, Din wondered if their miraculous survival of the storm and the guiding light that had led them out of it had something to do with the kid’s mystic abilities. It wouldn’t have been the first time he had gotten them out of a tight spot with a wave of the hand.

Though, changing the position of two suns was certainly a new feat even for the little one, Din thought, surveying the nighttime landscape once more, double taking once he took another look to the side and recognized the small skyline of Mos Eisley but a mile away.

That was impossible. Din had flown them a good two hours away from the town, there was absolutely no way the sandstorm could have blown them that far back, no matter how strong it was. All his danger senses were on high alert. Something wasn’t right about this at all.

Peli was still missing, but Din figured finding her could wait until— morning now, he supposed? He had already endangered his son enough for one day, grounded as it was he would feel far more comfortable taking the kid back to spend the night inside the safety of the _Razor Crest_ , reorient himself. 

Din flew off towards Mos Eisley once more, keeping an eye on the various speeders and animals that were carrying cargo and people towards the town limits. His better hand was back on his blaster and the kid shielded even more firmly against his chestplate, ready for anything. He had to land and walk about halfway there, his jetpack slowing and wheezing in protest that signaled that it had taken damage in the storm and was not going to remain airborne much longer

His sense of alarm heightened when he reached the edge of town and found the display of stormtrooper helmets on pikes completely vanished, nowhere to be seen. Going into town was even stranger, sex workers lurking in the shadows on every corner when last Din had recalled, this place only had the one small brothel. Graffiti and posters advertising things that Din was positive hadn’t been on the walls when he had walked out earlier today. A building or two that definitely had not been there either. 

The people roaming the streets were different too. Mos Eisley had been a fairly safe town by Tatooine standards, after the last Hutt holding the planet had been killed at the end of the revolution, Mos Eisley had been relatively abandoned in the new struggle for control of the planet while everyone had left this thieves’ haven for new waters. It didn’t appear that way now. Din knew hired folk when he saw them, could spot a bounty hunter or a mercenary or anyone who gave off a vibe of danger. This Mos Eisley night was _crawling_ with them, packs of them prowling the streets, locals scurrying out of their way or risking getting shoved and snarled at.

It was like Din had stepped into an alternate reality.

The kid shifted in his arms and trilled. Din tucked him even tighter away and shushed him quietly. He needed to get back to his ship. 

Increasing his pace, he weaved through the busy streets, feeling eyes on him. On the way to the docking bays, he spotted at least five more inconsistencies of things that either had not been there before, or had and were now missing. He could feel eyes on him; there were other humans about, but no Mandalorians, and he knew by now the feeling of people sizing him up and assessing his value. Casually, he reached behind him and stroked the tip of his rifle. He was no easy target. Some of the eyes shifted away, but not all of them. 

He arrived at the right docking bay— he _knew _this was the right docking bay, he wouldn’t forget that —and the last thing that should have been there but was now gone was the _Razor Crest_ itself. A stone settled in his gut.__

__

“Hey!” Din whirled around to see an old Dug man making his way towards him. “What are you doing here? I payed Jabba his money back last week— hey, hey, what’s the big idea?” 

__

Din kept him from taking another step towards him with the blaster pointed between the Dug’s eyes. “Where is my ship?” 

__

The man scowled at him, rolling his eyes. “Karking bounty hunters. I’m no thief, I didn’t steal anybody’s ship.” 

__

“I left my ship right here,” Din said, not lowering the blaster an inch. Wrong, wrong, everything was _wrong_. 

__

“Look, pal,” the Dug simpered, trying to inch slightly to the left, halting when Din’s blaster followed him. “I think you might be confused. I’m telling you, _no one’s_ left a ship here in the last two days. I work for Jabba, he trusts me for my honesty. I’m an honest businessman, swear on it!” 

__

There he went mentioning Jabba again. Jabba the Hutt was almost a decade dead; Din had no clue what angle this guy was trying to play up, but he didn’t appreciate it in the slightest. He thumbed the safety off his blaster. “I don’t care who you work for. I care about where my ship is, and _I left it right here_. I strongly suggest you tell me, and if you know anything about who took Peli Motto, I’d appreciate that information as well.” 

__

The Dug growled at him. “I don’t know who the kriff Penny Motti is! I’ve been running this shop since back before the Empire took over, and I’ve never heard of you, your ship, or anything you’re talking about! Now would you put the blaster down?” 

__

Din did not put the blaster down. His mind was too busy trying to make sense of all of this. The signs of scuffle he had found left behind by whoever had taken Peli were now as gone as his ship was. This Dug thought he owned Peli’s business— concerning, but not nearly as much as the fact that he was still apparently living under the assumption that the Hutts and the Empire were still around. The town outside had changed, it was night when it should be day, and Din genuinely wondered if his earlier musings about stepping into an alternate reality was true or not. 

__

“Oh, for the love of—“ The Dug paused, spotting something to the right of Din. A cursory glance told him it was someone whose entire getup screamed “hired thug” leaned against the wall across from the entrance to the shop. “Hey, Mogi! Can you tell your associate over here I didn’t do nothing to his ship?” 

__

The masked hunter turned to look at them. “Doesn’t work with me. Never seen him before in my life.” 

__

The Dug’s eyes narrowed. “In that case could you ah, help me out here? He’s hanging around disrupting business.” 

__

Din was hyperaware of the child in his arms. “I don’t think he needs to get involved.” 

__

“No, no, he does.” The Dug began waving the thug over. “I do good work for his boss, surely they wouldn’t want some sleemo messing with my productivity, huh?” 

__

The other man was advancing with a particularly nasty looking blaster visible on his belt and Din was forced to turn his own aim away from the Dug. “Pretty sure Jabba would pay well for his armor.” 

__

So this guy believed in a Jabba too? Din felt the cold patch in his gut grow, feeling like his brain was skipping over a crucial piece of information about this entire situation. 

__

“And,” the man was musing, mask tilted towards the kid Din held. “Not to mention whatever bounty he’s got in his arms there—“ 

__

The Dug broke the tension by taking Din’s distraction and lobbing a box at his head. Din ducked and shot him between the eyes. Another blaster bolt nailed Din’s shoulder pauldron and knocked him forward and Din had to spin and turn to avoid the other hunter’s swipe, engaging the blade in his gauntlet and stabbing the guy in his unprotected side and kicking him down when he doubled over. 

__

]Holding the kid tighter, Din dashed out of the bay and back into the streets, only to speed up when the guy he put down was heard yelling from behind him, “Hey! Get that guy!” 

__

Din swore under his breath as no less than ten people dropped what they were doing and came after him. Taking a risk, Din let loose a burst of fire from his flamethrower and cleared a path in front of him to move quicker, ducking under one person and shooting another assailant down. The kid was still calm and quiet in his arms as Din sprinted through the night, rounding a corner and— 

__

Skidding to a halt at the sight of a massive wall mural, the full length of a building, looking out over the entire square. 

__

A massive stormtrooper helmet stared down at him. 

__

_Join the Imperial Forces,_ the mural proclaimed. _Defend the Grand Empire. Find purpose in your life. Visit your nearest recruitment checkpoint found at coordinates—_

__

Din couldn’t read any more because there was another blaster bolt soaring over his head and he had to duck and run again as more people began following him. A large figure popped up in front of him, and he didn’t hesitate to duck under and flip them over his shoulder and keep going, firing back and knocking down three assailants. 

__

_Imperial recruitment posters… town transformed into its criminal heyday…_ stormtroopers. 

__

Two troopers, unmistakable and stark white in the darkness, emerging from a building with armor brightly polished and in good condition the likes of not seen in the old remnants hanging around Din’s time since the encounter with Gideon’s troops on Nevarro. 

__

_Din’s time… as in, this wasn’t—?_

__

_No._ Din shook his head, quickening his pace as the edge of town came in sight. _Escape now. Think on whatever the fuck is going on later._

__

Din and the kid burst free of town with blaster bolts still nipping at their heels. Thinking quickly, Din ran over and shoved an innocent passerby off the swoopbike they were on as nicely as he could, got on, and kicked off back into the desert. The continued blasterfire past his head and a quick look behind him told him that at least five of the thugs had gotten on a speeder of their own and were following after him. 

__

Repositioning the kid in his lap in front of him, Din alternated between steering through the dark, empty desert night, and whipping around and trying to shoot from behind. He was vaguely following the route he and Calican had taken before— _after?_ —to find Shand, but if he couldn’t shake these guys, him trying to hide from them on their home territory would likely not prove successful. 

__

Another turn around had Din sniping off the one on the end, taking out one of the four guns shooting at him, but the other three increased their fire, and he had to turn back around and just hope the bolts kept pinging off his armor instead. 

__

Of course, the minute he said that the bike shuddered as a bolt hit the engine and began to spin into a death spiral. Clutching up the kid again, Din folded himself into a protective ball and rolled off the bike and landed hard in the sand while the bike spun forward a few more meters and exploded on impact. 

__

He had definitely bruised his shoulder and entire left side in the landing, but forcing his aching body to uncurl, Din saw the kid unharmed. The speeder was slowing down. and Din knew he didn’t have much time, so while the thugs began to unload, he had his rifle out and disintegrated two of them. 

__

His third shot would have connected as well, if not for the shot from the side knocking his aim off, a third figure with a smoking blaster running up from the distance, and slag it, they must have had armor of some sort, Din definitely connected with them when he knocked them off the speeder. 

__

A large form loomed over him, and Din was just in time to turn around and bring his rifle up horizontally to block the matching rifle butt attempting to club him from the largest thug, a Devaronian. He could see the other two figures approaching now, the Zabrak he hit and the third, a Human. 

__

Using his flamethrower once more in the Devaronian’s flameproof face was enough to blind them and get them to back off in the slightest, Din swung the butt of his rifle into their gut and sent them stumbling. A shot of his wrist rope caught the Human’s wrist and yanking it brought them forward and let them drop their gun and trip their Zabrak companion, though not before the Zabrak got off a lucky shot that connected with Din’s hip and sent him to the ground in a burst of pain. 

__

Large hands were picking him up, though, and it seemed the Devaronian was back in time to lift him as to throw him. Din writhed and kept hold of his rifle so when he was flung, he could turn and shoot and vaporize the Devaronian into nothing— before he realized he was seconds away from landing straight on his head. 

__

This was going to hurt. 

__

It hurt. 

__

Frankly, he was lucky he didn’t break his neck at this angle. 

__

He did black out for a second though, and when he came back, the Zabrak and the Human were right over him. He could see a small blur toddling up behind them— the kid, in the fight they had completely forgotten the kid, thank the gods. He couldn’t let them hurt the kid. He couldn’t let them hurt his son. 

__

Even through his cotton-swathed head, he could see one blurry figure reaching for him, the other one holding a blaster. Din used up all his effort to unsheathe the knife in his gauntlet again and slash at the hand. The owner gave a yell and staggered back, which made the other cock their blaster at him, but they too didn’t shoot as they just as suddenly dropped it and began choking, hunkering over and clawing at their neck. 

__

Din’s heart dropped. He couldn’t see the kid from here, not with his vision so swimmy, but he knew the kid was doing the choking thing he had done on Cara before. The kid shouldn’t have to— 

__

Shaking the black spots away from his vision, Din grabbed the dropped, primed blaster, and shot them through the head, turning and shooting the other one still clutching at their hand too. They fell at the feet of the kid, who still had what looked like a tiny hand raised, but Din’s vision was getting darker and darker and darker, and the last thing he saw as he melted away was the stirring of the stars in the sky into a swirl. 

__

* * * 

Not so far away, a man who called himself Ben Kenobi awoke at an insistent prodding of the Force. He sat up, instantly alert. 

__

_Qui Gon?_

__

Trying to communicate with his former Master’s ghost had been one of the few activities available for Ben to partake in during his now five year stay on Tatooine to watch over Luke. 

__

Now, was he very good at it? Oh, no, that would make things easy. 

__

As it was, Ben reached into the Force and got exactly nothing that could feel remotely like Qui Gon’s Force signature. There was still an insistent prodding at the back of his mind, though, so expanding his senses as far as he dared, he sat up on his newly acquired mattress— still too soft, after so long sleeping on the floor, he didn’t use it nearly as much as he should —and drifted into a meditative state, casting his consciousness out into the wide, sparkling web of the Force and seeing what he connected with. 

__

Far away, like a lighthouse on the edge of a foggy sea, there was Luke’s familiar luminescent glow. Ben knew the boy was asleep in his bed on the Lars homestead, his primary concern could be relieved; Luke was not in direct danger. 

__

_But then what?_ Ben continued to drift lazily through the Force, on alert in case the insistent prodding was supposed to symbolize a someone else, a threat to Luke. 

__

But the ticklish sensation did not feel Dark, or malevolent. Once his mind began to focus on the idea of a Someone Else, the feeling became more solidified, a nearby bonfire to Luke’s distant starburst. It was a person, and the Force was telling Ben to go find them. 

__

Groaning, he opened his eyes and got to his feet. Yes, maybe he should be sleeping on the bed more if his joints were going to ache like this every time he got up. His small house was dark and sand caught beneath his toes as he shuffled around to find socks, boots, and his robe. He brought his lightsaber, because no matter what, he was a Jedi and their lightsaber was a Jedi’s life, and on a whim, the medkit and a small skin of water, not fresh, but enough left from the vaporator the day before. 

__

He stepped out into the night, whistling in the dark and smiling once the answering rumble and stomping of his latest dewback sounded from the shadows. Could he get Qui Gon to come when he called? No, but he had become a very successful dewback and bantha communicator, so Ben was going to count that as a success. 

__

The prodding was still pricking at his skin, so though he didn’t exactly have a direction of where he needed to go, he felt fairly confident in the directions he gave his mount. Whoever he was headed to find must not be from around here if they thought wandering around at night while the Tuskens were afoot was a good idea. 

__

The prodding in the Force turned into a tug, and Ben urged his mount to increase their pace. He hadn’t encountered _any_ Force Sensitive since— well. It had been a while. 

__

If they were friendly, Ben would help them, and then he would send them on their way. It didn’t matter if one of the family he had lost forever had survived. It didn’t matter that he had been existing in a sand-coated hell with only his own mind for company for the past five years. He was a Jedi Master, and he had his duty, which was to protect. 

__

If Ben found a friend, he would help them off-planet, because who would want to live on Tatooine? 

__

He would help them off planet because it did not matter what he wanted, his first and only objective was to ensure the safety of Luke Skywalker, and Ben would die before he failed. He would not allow that failure on his record. 

__

Luke _must_ stay safe, if the galaxy was to ever have hope again, and the hard truth is that that meant absolutely no one with a lick of Force Sensitivity could find him. It was simply too risky. Force Sensitivity drew attention, and having someone like that near Luke, or even the thought of Luke in their head, could ruin everything if they fell into the hands of the enemy.

__

Dark fingers crept up Ben’s spine as his mind cracked the curtain of memories of death and destruction, pain and betrayal, and he grit his teeth and rolled with the memories for a moment before summoning the strength and forcing them back and away to where they belonged. 

__

The signal flare of the Force Sensitive he was tracking remained. They were close. 

__

Yes, Ben decided. He would assist this person, and then they must leave. 

__

He crested a sand dune, and saw where the Light was pointing him. A bright gleam of something metallic shimmered below on the desert sands. Ben sensed death amongst the bright spark. He ignited his saber, slid off the Dewback, and drew closer. 

__

On the sand, he could see the signs of a struggle. One flamed out corpse of a swoopbike, one abandoned speeder, blackened scraps of fabric strewn around the ground, various discarded weapons, and three bodies— one of which was the source of the metallic reflection of the starlight and now his saber. 

__

_Mandalorian,_ Ben noted instantly, the armor a dead giveaway. An alive one too, if not currently conscious, but he could still feel an injured life aura pulsing from them while the other two bodies splayed next to the Mandalorian registered as very much dead. They weren’t Mandalorians, a closer look pegged them as some of Jabba’s enforcers, and Ben could guess who they were chasing. 

__

He was practically on top of the Force Signature strong enough to wake him from a deep sleep, the entire area was radiant with their presence, but another look at the unconscious Mandalorian told Ben it definitely was not whoever this was. 

__

Then, the Mandalorian’s cape began to move in a distinctly un-capeish sort of fashion. 

__

Ben took a cautious step back, then another to give space, as out from underneath the cape emerged a tiny figure. 

__

The Force shouted at Ben that this was who they were talking about. 

__

Ben noted wryly that he had sensed that much, thank you. 

__

Then he took an actual look at what this being with the tremendous Force Signature actually was and did a double take. 

__

Then another. 

__

Then _another_ , because yes Ben might have used to pride himself on his observational skills, but obviously he must have slipped, finally spent one day too many out in the desert heat and fried his brain, because no. 

__

No, no. 

__

No fucking way. 

__

The— the _being_ , no, this was _not_ happening —twitched large, achingly familiar ears, and blinked up at him. They gave a small whine, not unlike a Human child would. 

__

Their aura, strong in the Force as an anvil and wielded just as delicately, came swinging out to roughly prod at his own in open curiosity. Ben braced himself against the impact.

__

Ben closed his eyes, shook his head, counted to three, opened his eyes. The being in front of him was still there.

__

Okay.

__

This was happening, apparently.

__

Ben inhaled sharply.

__

Damn, but did he wish he had a way to contact Yoda.

__

“Hello there,” he said uncertainly.

__

If it turned out that Ben was now responsible for watching another Jedi’s secret child, he might just finally lose it. 

__

**Author's Note:**

> Fic two of two in the _If I dare publish another fic that is NOT the longfic I've been avoiding for three goddamn months, please blast me directly in the fucking face with a hose_ fic bomb
> 
> Don't know the exact update schedule, but I hope to have this all (or mostly, who am I kidding) out before Mando Season 2 airs on October 30th.
> 
> Please leave a comment if you liked! Or not liked! I'm just a feedback gremlin


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